This past weekend we packed up the Golf and headed away for a long weekend. Just the four of us: me, Fran, Iggy and a whole car full of “stuff”. We brought everything from our cloth diapers (used everyday), to six pairs of pants for Iggy (we used two) and don’t forget the baby monitor (didn’t even touch it).
The trip there was uneventful. A 3 hour road trip, a visit to the local supermarket for supplies and then a 9 mile trek on the dirt road to get to the holiday house. Although not the most luxurious of accommodations, the views were spectacular.

Basic accommodation at best + an outhouse in the background

View to the left

Pair this view with a glass of wine and I'm in heaven!

We could hear the waves lapping the shore from the house, I mean shed.

We almost forgot about the musty, three room shack when the sun started to set.

The next day we headed off to the Scallop Festival, which should be renamed “Drunken Parents with Kids Lagging Behind Festival”. The $50 entry fee got us through the gate and then we were off to sample all types of delicious wines for $5 a glass, as well as award winning macadamia crusted scallops, fish balls and the not so award winning mini donut holes ($3 for six. What a racket!).

Beach + Wine + Food = a perfect Saturday afternoon.

Fran was quite the drunken chick magnet with his semi permanent appendage:

I'm referring to the baby, not the beers. Although they were also semi permanently attached to Fran.

Had I not been 6 feet behind him stiff arming the pack animals, I’m not sure what he would have done.

Dinner with family at their local beach house followed, and then I hit the sack for an early night with Iggy while Fran entertained.

The next day was cloudy and overcast (much like our hungover brains), so we tucked into a breakfast of avocado and marmite on toast before starting the trek back home.

Sounds pretty gross, but the marmite and avo are delish together!

Half way through the journey the transmission decided to pack up, so we were left sputtering home, praying we wouldn’t be stranded with an 8 week old infant and a car full of useless baby stuff.

For those of you that know us, you’ll say that’s typical Frost style. There’s always a spanner thrown in the works with us!

Having recovered from the long weekend, we’re now waiting with bated breath for the estimate from the dealer.